Cuts And Bruises
by Watashi wa sailor prism
Summary: Warning: Yaoi. Angst. Don't like, don't read. Disclaimer: I don't own it.


This is my FIRST EVER fan fiction so be nice!

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England woke up in a strange place. He looked up and saw the ceiling fan spin. It made him sort of dizzy. He looked around some more and saw that it was morning. He was in America. Either Alfred had kidnapped him again, or he was so drunk that he forgot where he was. He looked beside him to see a certain person sleeping next to him. He smiled as he saw it was just Alfred. He smiled as the younger boy stirred as he shook him lightly. He groaned and rolled over slightly to face Arthur. His blue eyes opened and he smiled widely.

"Morning Arthur!" You could tell he was smiling by the way he talked. It was funny actually hearing him talk for once. Instead of trying to listen to him with his mouth full of hamburger and shake.

"Good morning...and why are you sleeping with me again?" The younger boy smiled again.

"I had a nightmare!" He said as he tensed up a bit in the way he acted. Arthur sighed and hugged the boy softly.

"Alfred?"

"Yes?"

"Please be quiet..."

-///-

That was then. Except then was a very long time ago. He grimaced as he woke up in his own bed. There was a war going on. A war with Russia. It's been a long time since they were all the allies fighting against the Axis powers. Now they all went their separate ways. China got into the tea business and France just cooked. America and England went back to their own countries to help the poverty that had been spreading. There has been a lot of things going on between them. One of Alfred's beloved friends just committed suicide. England went to the funeral and helped America through the pain he was feeling. After the fact, one of America's little cousins, Haiti, had an earthquake. England tried to comfort America but he was just depressed. Now we were fighting this war. And things weren't going so well. He heard the phone ring. He answered the phone swiftly.

"Hello?"

"Arthur...I need you right now."

"America?! What's wrong? Are you okay?" England began to get frightened. America never called him. At all. This was a rare occasion but now that he's acting like this, England didn't know what to do.

"I'll be there as soon as I can, just hold on Alfred!"

A long plane ride later, he arrived in America. It didn't surprise him that there were so many fat tourists and skinny sluts dressed in bikinis. But he didn't care. He had to get to Alfred. He called up a taxi and went straight to his New York home. He knocked on the door and began to call his name.

"Alfred! Are you in there?!" He called out. The windows were all dark and England was so frightened. It took a huge amount of will power to smash down a window and crawl through, cutting his leg and hand in the process. He ran to Alfred's door. He knocked slightly and then kicked down the door. He saw what looked like a lump on the floor. He whimpered slightly as he walked into the room. He saw a clothed figure in the middle of the floor. He walked over again and winced when he stepped in the blood seeping from the bathroom. He saw that the body was one of his helpers around the house. He wasnt dead but he was close to it. He stumbled to the bathroom. Of course, the door was locked. _'Are these people stupid enough NOT to use a crow bar or SOMETHING to open the goddamn door?' _He thought quietly to himself as he kicked down the door again. He saw what looked like a murder scene. He almost puked when he smelled that all too familiar metallic smell. The smell of fresh blood. He closed his eyes and prayed a tiny bit before he opened them and walked over to the bathtub. He saw America. It looked like him at least. His slender figure looked like it was limply tossed on the bathtub. There was blood everywhere. He stepped slightly inside the area and saw a razor blade. _'You FUCKING MORON. Why would you even do this to yourself?! Are you that dumb and thickheaded. You...you...stupid son of a bitch. I hate you...' _He thought as he picked up the limp body out of the water and cradled him in his arms.

"You fucking idiot...why would you do this..." His blue eyes still shined with tears. England's green eyes now were drenched as he bowed his head and clung onto America for a while. After he was done mourning, he lifted him up bridal style. How ironic. England was just about to propose to him too. This was gut and heart wrenching at the same time. He felt himself get weaker at the sight of his love like this but he made himself keep walking. He walked back to the car after clothing him properly and began telling the driver to take him to the hospital. The rest was a blur. He remembered the doctors trying to revive the poor boy. His boy. The one that him and France fought over. he remembered the doctor coming out and shaking his head softly at England. That's when he let himself go limp on the floor. The pure shock finally reached him and made him pass out.

-///-


End file.
